


something i can believe

by KatMorningstar



Category: Throne of Glass Series - Sarah J. Maas
Genre: Alternate Universe - Pacific Rim Fusion, DON'T READ IF YOU HAVEN'T READ PAST THE FIRST BOOK, F/M, Major Spoilers, Major spoilers for basically all the books past Throne of Glass, or do, your choice
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-09-16
Updated: 2015-09-16
Packaged: 2018-04-21 00:32:54
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,432
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4808081
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KatMorningstar/pseuds/KatMorningstar
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Aelin Galathynius is done being a Jaeger pilot. With two dead copilots and Kaijus still coming, despite the newly-closed Breach, she's completely adrift. But new pilots are coming to the Hong Kong Shatterdome, including her estranged cousin and one of the most legendary pilots that ever lived. Will these new pilots-- and a new copilot-- bring some hope to a hopeless fight?</p>
            </blockquote>





	something i can believe

**Author's Note:**

> Title from "All I Need" by Within Temptation.  
> I see this being the first chapter of two or three? Don't quote me on that.

Aelin Galathynius was officially done being a pilot. 

Nehemia would’ve called her a coward, had she been around to say anything. But she wasn’t. No one was. No one that she wanted to talk to, anyway.

Honestly, it wasn’t a fear thing, so it couldn’t rightly be called cowardice. (At least, she didn’t think so.) It was pure grief, that was slowly unfurling into anger. Aelin was self-aware enough to know that she was incredibly unstable right now, and the last thing she wanted to do was open up a drift channel with someone only to unleash all her hurt fury on them. No one deserved that, so she was done. And everyone at the Hong Kong Shatterdome seemed perfectly happy to leave her alone, for now.

The only one not taking no for an answer was the Marshal. To everyone else, she was Marshal Ashryver, the hardass who almost never explained the logic behind her strategic choices. To Aelin, she was Aunt Maeve. And for whatever reason, she refused to grant Aelin leave. She would’ve done it for any other pilot so recently relieved of their copilot-- especially their second copilot. In the vindictive recesses of her mind, Aelin was almost convinced that Maeve was constantly putting her in harm’s way on purpose. She had the combined Ashryver-Galathynius inheritance to gain from her niece’s “accidental” demise, as she'd been disowned under mysterious circumstances before joining the military, but she never mentioned the money, ever.

Aelin would be lying to herself, though, if she said she hadn’t seen Maeve’s pack of giant, deadly lieutenants eyeing her from time to time, faces unreadable as ever.

Sprawled across her bed, she pointedly ignored the cold, still-unmade bed across the room from hers. She hadn’t been  
able to bring herself to make it, to smooth over the last real proof of Nehemia’s presence in her life, aside from those memories of hers that now lived in Aelin’s head. She also ignored the fact that she had an appointment with the Shatterdome therapist in five minutes. For what it was worth, she liked Emrys, immensely, but the fact that Maeve had ordered her to daily therapy for two weeks, to prepare for an immediate test for a new copilot, rubbed her wrong. Not that she wanted to wallow in her grief-- she didn’t want to have a reason to grieve in the first place-- but Maeve was trying to fast-track her through her emotions, only to throw her right back into the field.

And anyway, she knew exactly what they would talk about. They kept going over and over the event, and every time, a layer of sadness flaked away to reveal hurt, betrayal, rage underneath. 

That day was supposed to be the death-knell of the Kaijus. Two Jaegers were to deliver a nuclear warhead into the Breach, forever closing off the pathway between the Kaiju’s world and theirs. But something had gone wrong. Something was critically wrong before they even dropped-- before they had even suited up. Nehemia had known, and she had manipulated Aelin from the very start.

Faking a headache, Nehemia had dashed off to the infirmary for painkillers, or so she had said. In reality, she was kicking Chaol out of his Jaeger, taking his spot, and sending him to pilot with Aelin.

“What the hell’s going on?” Aelin had called across the pod when Chaol had strapped in next to her without a word. “Stop that, and look at me.” 

Meeting her eyes, Chaol had shrugged, not entirely convincing. “Nehemia insisted. I guess she thinks she and Dorian are the better pair to carry the bomb.” 

They had a strange web of drift compatibility between the four of them. Nehemia and Aelin had the highest compatibility scores, closely followed by Chaol and Dorian. But Nehemia had gotten a solid score with Dorian too, quite possibly because they (and Aelin) were what some assholes at Jaeger academy had called “royals”. They had all come from wealthy families-- Dorian’s father was the CEO of a genetic research conglomerate, Nehemia’s owned a series of prolific jewel mines, and Aelin’s parents were simply old society money-- and the common background made them all at least a little compatible. (Though Aelin and Dorian’s score was well out of the range of safe drifting.) 

Unlike Nehemia, Aelin was also drift-safe compatible with Chaol for reasons she couldn’t really qualify. They had only tested on a lark, just after they had started sleeping together, and had been surprised at their results.They had switched up copilots on one or two occasions, when Chaol had gotten the flu and when Aelin took time off for the anniversary of her first copilot’s death. It worked just fine in the field, but Aelin couldn’t reason out why Nehemia would insist on switching today of all days. Despite her misgivings, there was no one else in the entire world that she trusted more than Nehemia. She must have had her reasons.

And she had, alright. Aelin had found out a few days later that Sorscha, a clever J-tech they called “the Jaeger medic”, had voiced some concerns about the stability of Dorian and Chaol’s Jaeger to Maeve. Maeve had counseled her to ignore it for now and deal with it after this mission. Nehemia had been listening from the corridor. 

So she had insisted on copiloting Wyvern Honor with Dorian, shooing Chaol off to Raptor Inferno with Aelin. With her infinite faith in her copilot, Aelin would never have believed that what had happened was intentional. But when the lower half of Wyvern Honor had shorted out just shy of the Breach, Nehemia came over the comms and spoke in her ear.

“I’m sorry for this,” she had murmured, quieter than Aelin had ever her speak. “You don’t deserve to lose anyone else, but you don’t deserve to die either. You’ve got greatness in you, partner. Better me than you. Don't let this break you.” 

Only just grasping what she meant, Aelin had let out such a scream, both aloud and in her mind, Chaol had nearly blacked out. But the comms were dead, and Nehemia’s pod was ejecting. Apparently, she had attached a separate line from the bomb to the pod, just in case. 

Aelin could do nothing but scream, wordless and desperate, as the pod propelled itself straight into the Breach, the warhead trailing behind. Her mouth snapped shut as Chaol’s shifted focus seeped across the drift: they had to get Dorian out. So she had sealed off that part of herself that was still shrieking and launched all their grappling lines out to Wyvern Honor. It had been a near thing, but the three of them had escaped. 

The second they were back in the Shatterdome, Aelin had flung off her helmet and flown at Chaol. He had been rushing over to Dorian, who was being dragged, unconscious, from his Jaeger; Aelin didn’t care. 

“Did you know?” she demanded. “Did Nehemia tell you something was wrong so you would switch with her? Did you send your partner and mine to die?”

“No-” he started, but he was cut off by her fist smashing into his nose once, twice, three times. Aelin knew for a fact that if the other pilots hadn’t yanked her up and off him, she wouldn’t have stopped until his brains were splattered on the floor. Then, she had raged against their grip, but now she was grateful. The ugly hook in Chaol’s nose still made her feel vaguely sick, not because she truly felt bad for blaming him. He should've known something was wrong. But so had she, and she didn't like to be reminded of the monster she hid under her skin, always burning and completely without conscience. 

Eventually, she caved and went to meet Emrys, his office always warm and smelling somehow of fresh bread. He didn't comment on her tardiness, only gave her a rueful smile and looked down at the stack of papers on his desk. 

"Before you ask, yes, I still feel like shit, and I really don't want to talk about the same old thing again. It's not helping." She flopped onto the couch, sullen but begrudgingly comfortable. 

"I hadn't planned on it, smartass," he replied mildly. "I'd rather talk about what's happening now. The reason, I assume, the Marshal wants you back on active duty so soon."

Her grimace only deepened. "You mean the fact that the Kaijus haven't stopped coming? That they're only attacking near here, and my esteemed aunt is calling in half the Pan-Pacific Alliance pilots to fight them?"

Emrys's weathered face remained peaceful. "Yes, that. Specifically, I worry that you question the point of Ranger Ytger's sacrifice, if the Kaiju haven't stopped. And I'm curious how you feel about a new copilot. It could be someone even more experienced than you, or someone green out of the Academy. Thoughts?"

"First off, I don't question the...point of her sacrifice. These recent attacks have been coming from inland, meaning the Breach is probably closed. She did what she meant to do. I just can't cope with the fact that she did it, and manipulated me in the process." Emrys nodded in sympathy, so she went on. "And as for a new copilot," she shook her head, feeling disconnected from the motion. "I don't want one. I don't want to be a pilot anymore. I just want to be done."

"That's perfectly understandable. After this, and Sam before," he ignored her flinch at the name, "you've been through things that would break anyone."

There was that word again. Break. But she wasn't broken. She was just... so hollow, and so full of anger. Like a fireplace, spitting out polluted smoke and burning anyone that reached out to it.

"I'm not broken," she said aloud. "I'm just done. Haven't I done enough? I've given every piece of my soul to this job, my whole life, my goddamned childhood. What else do I have that it could possibly want to take from me, other than everyone I love?" 

Emrys shook his head sadly. "It's not about taking anything from you. The job is draining, I know. I've seen years' worth of Rangers come through this office looking and feeling just like you do now. But you are a renewable resource. Your soul, your hope, it can all come back, if you let it. And you can choose to keep giving, to leverage your own life to protect the lives of others. So it's not about you being robbed. It's your choice, your noble choice, to give."

That shut her up for a moment. She had, after all, chosen this job of her own free will. Granted, she'd been young. Too young to enter the Academy, before one of the instructors, Ranger Hamel, had pulled some strings for her, likely expecting generous thanks from her parents. But even then, she'd known what she was signing up for and what she was giving up. She had traded her childhood for a reprieve from powerlessness, and she'd been paid back in full, ever since her first Jaeger simulation.

At last she conceded, "I'll do the drift testing. But I need you to tell Maeve, or whichever one of her lieutenants is overseeing it, that I can't pilot with a greenie. Not 'I won't.' I can't. I've got all my own memories, which are bad enough, and on top of that, I've got two ghosts in my head. Every memory I ever saw through the drift is mine now too. If I hit a first-timer with my baggage and two dead copilots', they'll crack, no matter how compatible we are."

Emrys considered it, nodded. "Probably for the best. It's more than you should have to cope with, much less anyone else." 

Aelin nodded back, face mock-earnest, as if to say, "That's what I'm saying." 

"Well," Emrys ventured on, "there are a number of pilots transferring in, some of whom are both experienced and, for one reason or another, unpartnered."

"Like who?" 

"A few close enough to your age that you probably remember them from the Academy. Last names escape me, but I'm sure you remember a Lysandra and a Tern. Unique names. There's also a Nesryn, who was only a few years behind you and is by no means inexperienced. Maeve has also pulled the San Francisco Shatterdome's Kwoon master off training duty and back into the field. Rowan Whitethorn is a real piece of work, but he was legendary-- is legendary. And they're recalling your cousin from Russia. Aedion will be a few days later than everyone else, but he'll be here."

Aelin's head swam with all these names. Lysandra had been a real bitch at Jaeger Academy, and Tern had always tried his best to rip her apart when they sparred. Nesryn was a stranger, but she had heard murmurs of the girl's skill. Rowan Whitethorn, as Emrys had said, was a legend. Easily one of the strongest pilots in Jaeger history, and he had piloted one of the few Mark-5s ever made, making him almost impossibly powerful. But he had dropped off the face of the earth for reasons no one would ever discuss. (Somehow one of Maeve's lapdogs was always around to shut the conversation down.) 

And Aedion! God, she hadn't seen Aedion since they were children. She had gone off to Jaeger Academy at barely 16, and he was 20 and already in the Marines by then. He later went on to the Academy for Ranger training, several years behind her, and he'd been stationed in Russia long after she'd shipped out to China. They'd corresponded a little, in the beginning-- just a few letters from him after his graduation saying how much he hoped they would be stationed together, maybe even pilot together, then one telling her he was being sent north. After that, with both of them actively piloting year-round, there just hadn't been time to reconnect. But now they could, she thought, hope fizzing in her chest. And surely they would be compatible! From what she had heard of his exploits piloting Captive Oath, he would be more than capable of handling a neural handshake with her. Maybe there was a chance she could find a great copilot again, a friend with whom there were no boundaries. 

She left Emrys's office and went straight for the Kwoon. After a week and a half, she finally felt like leaving her room, and there was no way in hell she was going spar against Aedion unprepared.

**Author's Note:**

> Okay okay, I kind of dashed this off in an afternoon, so I hope it doesn't suck! I just...I need a Pacific Rim AU, and no one else was doing it, so HERE I AM. DOING IT, BECAUSE NO ONE ELSE WILL.
> 
> Feel free to hit me up with thoughts, questions, concerns, either in the comments below or on Tumblr, where I'm maryam0revna!


End file.
